


The Dreams In Which I'm Dying

by Nativestar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Episode: s04e10 Tesla + Bell + Edition + Mac, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nativestar/pseuds/Nativestar
Summary: Jack makes a surprise trip home, only to find Mac already in his apartment andhe can't wake him up.A frantic phone call to Matty reveals a missing dose of DMT and questions only Mac can answer. Set post 4x10 Tesla + Bell + Edison + Mac
Comments: 33
Kudos: 74





	The Dreams In Which I'm Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Mac is not suicidal or intending to self harm but he is reckless and hides away to take a potentially dangerous drug. If this could be triggering to you, please don’t read.

This was a bad idea.

In fact it was probably up there for one of the worst ideas Mac had ever had, but once it had crossed his mind he just hadn’t been able to shake it.

It had been laughably easy to do as well. He’d told his team that he was spending the weekend in Mission City. He was taking some time for himself, dealing with his loss and trying to wrap his head around everything. No, he didn’t want company. Yes, he’ll call if he needs anything. In a way, it wasn’t even a lie.

Taking the vial from the lab and a syringe from medical had been even easier.

Then he’d driven his car to Jack’s apartment, parked around the block and let himself in with his spare key. And now he was sat on Jack’s bed, rolling the vial between his fingers as he took a deep breath and released it slowly to calm his nerves.

His phone was on the bedside cabinet, pre-programmed with the message to send Bozer if he didn’t come around in a few hours, and on the bed next to him was the syringe sealed in its packet.

This was the point of no return. He could forget about all this, leave and go home, and no one would need to know. Or…

And he just couldn’t leave it alone.

Licking his lips, he prepared a dose, his actions quick and decisive. He lobbed the empty syringe packet into the bin in the corner and swung his legs up onto the bed, if remembered right, this would hit him hard and fast. He shook his right hand out a couple of times, and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths, he didn’t want to miss the vein because of his nervous jitters.

He stretched his arm out and only hesitated a second before the needle broke his skin and he injected the contents. He quickly put the cap back on the needle and laid down, his heart was already pounding, he wondered if that would that make it even more fast acting...

The needle slipped out of his hand.

He never heard it hit the floor.

* * *

Jack sighed as the door closed behind him, it felt good to be home, even if it was only for a three-day weekend. He rolled his shoulders as he walked through the apartment, planning on grabbing a quick shower before trying to surprise everyone by turning up unannounced at Mac’s place. However, what he didn’t plan on, was finding a sleeping body on his bed, and he automatically reached for his gun before he recognised the blond hair in the fading afternoon light that filtered through his blinds.

Jack stared at Mac for a moment, the kid looked exhausted. Pale and shadows as deep as bruises under his eyes. Its not like he was expecting Mac to be great, it had been blow after blow recently for him but Jack was hoping for better than this. Leaning against the door frame he wondered if it would be kinder to let him sleep. No one knew he was back, so he could sit on the sofa, watch some TV while Mac caught up on some much needed rest. He quietly lowered his bag to the floor and started to close the door when Mac stirred.

No.

Not stirred.

_Writhed._

Shoulders twisting and nearly lifting him off the bed as the furrow between his eyes deepened. Legs kicking out as though he was trying to escape from pain, jerking away before it stopped as suddenly as it started. Jack could now hear Mac’s soft pants from the doorway but it didn’t seem to have woken him.

He sighed and dropped his head. Even in sleep Mac wasn’t free of torment. It just wasn’t fair. Mac twitched again, throwing his head to the side before going limp again. And Jack decided he couldn’t watch this any longer.

“Hey, Mac.” He called out, not wanting to startle him. “It’s me, Jack. You need to wake up, buddy. That nightmare of yours is doing a number on you.”

Nothing. The kid really was under deep. He sat carefully on the bed, ready to intercept any flying fists as he rested a hand on Mac’s shoulder.

“Mac, c’mon, you need to wake up.” He gave him a little shake.

Nothing.

“Mac.” Jack’s voice deepened in worry. “Wake up. You’re starting to worry me, pal.” He gave him another shake then put the back of his hand on Mac’s forehead. No fever. And no response neither.

“Mac!” He said sharply, in his drill sergeant voice. “Wake up!”

Jack’s heart sank as his worry ratcheted up another notch. Mac wasn’t this deep of a sleeper, something was wrong. He rubbed his knuckles hard across Mac’s sternum and Mac twisted away, his hands bunching up the bedsheets and legs kicking out again. Mac frowned but he was no closer to waking. Being responsive to pain was something Jack was struggling to see as a good sign but it was better than a complete lack of reaction.

Mac had always had a habit of hiding injuries or convincing himself they weren’t that bad so he could deal with them himself. He preferred to tend to his wounds in private, both physical and emotional. Jack thought he’d mostly broken Mac of that habit. But apparently, things had back slid when he wasn’t around. Before, Mac would have only come to Jack’s apartment to seek out help not to hide from everyone. Jack felt a flash of anger. Dammit, they were supposed to look out for each other, not let Mac hole himself up somewhere when he was hurt.

He grabbed his phone out of his bag and dialled Matty, putting it on speaker before he set it on the bedside table and grabbed Mac’s t-shirt, pulling it up, looking for, well, who knows, bullet holes, stab wounds, bruises that would indicate internal bleeding, something, _anything_ to explain this. But no, nothing but pale skin, unblemished except for old scars. Jack roughly pulled it back down and carded his hands through Mac’s hair. Head injury? But he couldn’t feel a bump, indent or even a scratch.

“C’mon Mac, give me a clue here, what’s wrong?”

Then _finally,_ Matty answered.

“Jack? What--”

“Matty! What the hell happened to Mac?” He snapped.

“Jack, I don’t--”

“I get home, find him asleep in my bed having a nightmare, except I can’t wake him up. I can’t see any injuries. Did something happen recently?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, during which Mac arched his back against the bed, the whites of his eyes showing as his eyelids fluttered before he collapsed back against the bed.

“Matty!”

“What’s his pulse like, Jack?”

Jack stuck his fingers none too gently under Mac’s jaw, his pulse was easy to find, skittering way too fast under his fingers.

“High. Too high, Matty. Same with his breathing.”

“Shit.”

Jack’s blood turned cold. Matty didn’t often swear, and it was reserved exclusively for the worst case scenarios.

“Matty, please, what are you not telling me? Is he dying?”

“No. But it’s not good, Jack. If it’s what I think it is, then he needs adrenaline. Can you bring him in? You’ll be quicker than anyone I can get out to you, and I can brief the medical team on your way in.”

“Okay, we can save the explanations until I know Mac’s okay.” Jack leaned over and ended the call before stuffing the phone into his pocket. He stood to pick up Mac and his foot hit something, knocking it under the bed. Reaching down he picked up a capped syringe.

“Oh Mac, what have you done to yourself?” He breathed. He brushed a hand through Mac’s hair. “This isn’t the answer, bud.”

He pocketed the syringe and leaned down to hoist Mac over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and prayed that he didn’t bump into any of his neighbours on his way to his car.

* * *

True to her word, Matty was waiting in the garage with a medical team and gurney when Jack’s car screeched to a halt by the doors. The medical team swarmed in and had efficiently transferred Mac to the gurney before Jack had even rounded the car and he tossed his car keys to the young agent standing next to Matty.

“Not a scratch on her.” He threatened the startled man, who at Matty’s nod scampered off to park the car.

“You said you knew what it was?”

She nodded.

“Start talking.” Jack ordered.

By the time they got to medical, Jack knew that DMT was a DARPA drug for memory retrieval. Highly experimental, potentially dangerous and for reasons unknown to him Phoenix had a small supply that was one sample missing. Matty was cagey about further details and it was raising red flags for Jack, but he didn’t have time to worry about that right now.

In the triage area, there was a flurry of activity around Mac. Leads were attached, an IV started, an oxygen mask fitted. Mac was agitated, his head tossing from side to side on the pillow constantly, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath any more. An alarmingly fast staccato from the heart monitor suddenly filled the room as it was connected and Jack knew from countless medical visits that none of the numbers displayed were normal for Mac.

“Pulse 138, resps 27, BP is 140/90.” A nurse read out as she attached a pulse oximeter. “And pulse ox 93.”

“How long as he been like this?” The doctor asked Jack as he checked Mac’s eyes with a penlight.

“I don’t know.” He looked at his watch and shook his head. “I found him about thirty minutes ago, he was already unresponsive.”

It looked like Mac was getting worse, his distress near constant now. His shirt had been cut away and Jack watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest as though he was hyperventilating. Mac arched his neck as if he wasn’t getting enough air, as his hand flew up to try and dislodge the mask, only for it to be gently but firmly intercepted by the nurse. It was the only sign that Mac was aware of anything happening to him and oddly made Jack feel slightly better.

“You need that for now, Mac. We’ll switch it out for a cannula as soon as we can, okay?” The nurse said, rubbing Mac’s shoulder in reassurance.

“Are we sure this is DMT?” The doctor asked Matty.

“They inventoried our samples. We’re one short, we’re as sure as we can be.”

Jack fished the syringe out of his pocket.

“I found this next to him.”

The doctor nodded and asked one of the nurses to take it for testing. “It’s going to take a while before we get the results.” He frowned as Mac’s heart rate climbed even higher. “I don’t think we can wait. His vitals are way too high already, he’s in a lot of distress and its putting a strain on his heart, if we don’t get this under control then its only going to get a lot worse. If it _is_ DMT then a shot of adrenaline should bring him out of it, but if its not then it could stop his heart.”

Jack felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. These were their choices? How had it even come to this? An hour ago he’d been looking forward to a hot shower and seeing his family.

The activity that had been so frantic a few minutes ago abruptly paused, and the only sounds were from the monitors and their insistent alarms, and Jack suddenly realised everyone was looking at him.

“You’re still down as his medical proxy. Its your decision Jack.” Matty said softly.

_Damn._ He had to choose. He felt sick at the thought.

“How sure are you?” He asked, his voice shaking.

“Why else would we have a dose missing?” Matty said simply. She was right, everything pointed to this DMT.

“Do it.” He ordered.

They must have been ready for this course of action because everything happened very quickly after that. Jack had _no_ time to prepare. He’d thought an adrenaline shot meant they were going to give Mac some drugs intravenously. He was _not_ prepared for the long ass needle that they quickly slid straight into Mac’s chest, above his heart. He wished they’d told him, because he did _not_ need to see that ever. That living nightmare was sure to invade his dreams now. He hated needles even on a good day.

The reaction was violent and immediate, Mac lurched up, gasping and coughing. He ripped the oxygen mask off as gloved hands gently pushed him back to the bed, only for him to roll over and retch onto the floor. They caught him before he could do a face plant and when he was done Mac turned limply onto his back. Too spent to do anything as a nurse gave his mouth a quick wipe and replaced the mask.

Jack peeled his eyes away from watching Mac to look his doctor who was staring at Mac’s vitals on the monitors and a moment later, nodded slightly.

“Heart rate is coming down. Looks like we made the right call.” He said, then turned his attention back to Mac. “Mac, can you hear me? You’re in Phoenix medical, it’s Doctor Carey. You gave us a bit of a scare there. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Mac was still panting, but his breathing was getting easier and true to her word the nurse was soon switching the mask for a cannula. He opened his eyes, but only barely. Jack was pretty sure he wasn’t tracking much, if at all. He’d seen a Mac fresh out of anaesthesia that was more aware than this. The doctor lifted his eyelids and flashed a light in them, earning him an uncoordinated swat at his hands from Mac who tried to turn his head away.

“Alright, Mac. Alright.”

Satisfied for now, the doctor turned to Matty and Jack.

“Its going to take us some time to make sure he’s stable and run some tests.” He sighed. “I want to say he’s out of the woods, but this drug is experimental and some of the reactions to it have been severe. Mac didn’t have any adverse reactions the first time though so I’m hopeful all he needed was some help to break out of it this time.”

“The first time?” Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _Again._

“A lot has happened this last week Jack, lets go get a coffee while they do their tests and I’ll explain everything.” Matty said.

“Yeah, okay.” He said, still feeling in shock at what he had just witnessed. “One second.”

He walked over to Mac’s bedside, his eyes had slid closed again, but Jack had a feeling that Mac could still hear him, even if it wasn’t all making sense to him.

“Hey bud,” he said, leaning in as he wrapped his hand around Mac’s, grasping his thumb and holding it to his own chest. He slid his other hand under Mac’s neck, running his thumb along his jaw. “You really scared me there. But you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Listen, I gotta go while they do some tests, but I’ll be back as soon as I can okay? You’re not alone, pal. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Mac showed no sign of hearing him, but Jack could have sworn he felt a small squeeze to his hand.

“That’s my boy.” Jack whispered, blinking hard as he reluctantly let go and left with Matty.

* * *

Over a coffee cup in the war room, Matty gave Jack an unabridged, unredacted account of Mac’s first brush with DMT. It was one of things Jack admired about Matty, she wouldn’t gloss over the truth, even if it painted her in a less than favourable light.

And suggesting that a concussed, grieving man take an experimental and _dangerous_ drug to desperately retrieve a memory that they had no idea would lead to anything actionable was _not_ her shining moment.

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Did you all get replaced by doppelgängers? Was there a chemical leak in the lab somewhere that caused this? Were you all brainwashed? I mean what were you thinking?”

“That we needed to stop Codex and get to that weapon before they did.” She replied calmly.

“At the risk of Mac’s life?”

“He was willing to take that risk, no one forced him to.”

“He was going to do it the moment you opened your mouth about the DMT and you know it.” Jack snapped back. She might as well have given Mac the injection herself as far as Jack was concerned.

“Jack!”

But Jack won’t back down on this one. It was a bad plan and no matter how desperate they were if Jack had been here they would have found another way. They shouldn’t have put the mission before Mac.

“I don’t care how bad the situation was, you should have found another way.”

“I wish we had!” Matty raised her voice. “I don’t like seeing him hurting any more than you do.”

And that took the wind right out of Jack’s sails, because he knew that was true. Matty wouldn’t have put him in danger without good reason. Her judgement may have been off on this one, but he shouldn’t have doubted her intentions. He rubbed his eyes, he was exhausted and he still had more questions than answers.

“Why do you think he did it?” He asked softly, not expecting a real answer.

“I don’t know, Jack. But I know Mac does everything for a reason. This drug helps with memory recall so there was obviously something he was trying to remember, but what, I don’t know.” She sighed, suddenly looking as tired as Jack felt. “I’m worried about him, we all are. We’ve tried to talk to him but… You’ve always been able to reach him when the rest of us couldn’t.”

Jack nodded. He’d certainly try, but he just didn’t know if Mac would let him.

* * *

Jack paused in the open doorway of Mac’s room in medical. He was curled up on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow with the other curled into a loose fist next to his face. He looked impossibly small and young to Jack and there was an open vulnerability in his red rimmed eyes that tore at Jack’s heart. He ached to take away the pain he saw there even as he knew he’d have to settle for just easing it.

Jack stepped forward and rapped his knuckles on Mac’s door.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?

Mac stared blankly at him for long enough that Jack was about to go get someone when he spoke.

“I thought I dreamed you.” He said quietly.

“No, I’m real, bud. Came home to surprise y’all with a quick visit. Instead, you surprised me, scared the shit out of me.” Jack walked in and dragged a chair closer to the bed with his ankle before sitting. “I spoke to your doctor. They’re keeping you for observation the rest of the night, but he thinks he’ll discharge you tomorrow morning.”

Mac nodded tiredly, he didn’t seem interested in the information, more resigned.

“How’re you feeling?”

Mac’s shoulder twitched in a move resembling a shrug. The lack of response was beginning to grate. He’d easily knocked ten years off Jack’s life with this stunt and now he wasn’t going to talk to him?

“That’s it? A shrug?”

“What do you want from me, Jack?” Mac sighed.

“Some honest answers, for one. When I spoke to you last week, you said you were doing okay.” He’d blatantly lied. And Jack didn’t know what pissed him off more, that Mac had lied or that he hadn’t seen through the lie.

“I don’t want to stay here.” Mac said miserably. “How’s that for honesty?”

“Yeah, well I didn’t want to come home and find you dying on my bed, so we don’t all get what we want, do we?” Jack replied and winced at the harsh tone. It’s not what he meant to say.

“Guess I deserved that.”

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. _Grand job you’re doing Dalton, why don’t you kick him too while you’re at it._

“No, Mac. You don’t deserve _any_ of this. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, but its been a long day and have I mentioned how you scared the shit out of me? I will take an apology for all the extra grey hairs you’ve just given me though, but only when you’re feeling better.”

“I’m sorry.” Mac said predictably.

“Yeah, no, by an apology I mean over a very nice steak dinner. Maybe that place on Freemont Street?”

“The one you said was all ‘frou frou’ and overpriced?” Mac teased.

“Yeah, that one.” Jack said, with a laugh that was only partially forced. “Let’s start again, pal. How’re you feeling?”

“Lousy.” Mac sighed. “Guilty. Embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve ever had a hangover this bad before. And that’s _with_ whatever they’re giving me.” Mac indicated the IV still attached to his arm.

“Yeah, but no psychotic breaks and your scans came back clear, so I’m taking this one as a win, buddy.” Jack said. He’d learnt way too much about the side effects and complications of DMT in the last few hours.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.” Mac said suddenly. Urgently.

“I know. I know. But this went beyond reckless. And we do need to talk about that.” Jack paused, he didn’t want to push Mac, but he had to ask. “Did you find what you were trying to remember?”

Mac shook his head, and his eyes begged Jack not to ask any further.

“Okay. We don’t have to talk about it tonight. You do need to get some rest though. The nurses say you’re refusing to sleep?”

“Tattle tales.” Mac muttered, but without any heat.

“I know. How dare they care about their patients?” Jack replied dryly. “Seriously though, why won’t you sleep? I know you must be exhausted.”

Mac didn’t say anything at first. Worrying at the blanket with his fingers, making Jack almost wish he had a paper clip for him instead.

“If I sleep, I might dream.” Mac said finally.

Jack winced sympathetically. He could only imagine what Mac’s hyperactive brain could come up with, especially with all the nightmare fodder their jobs provided them with. He did have a solution for it though, at least for tonight anyway.

“You know, you were pretty restless when you were dreaming before. How about I promise to wake you if I see that you’re dreaming?”

Mac’s eyes turned hopeful, Jack could see how hungry he was to get some rest even as Mac was shaking his head.

“I can’t ask you to stay awake, you need sleep too.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. I’m also not taking no for an answer.”

Mac hesitated, but then wonder of wonders, he actually nodded.

“Thanks, Jack.”

“You don’t have to thank me, kid. Just get some rest.” Jack slouched back on the chair and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. He dug his phone out of his pocket, and smiled as he glanced at Mac over the top of it, Mac was asleep before Candy Crush had even finished loading.

* * *

Mac woke up with a sharp pain in his chest. He rubbed at the source and groaned, blinking away the drowsiness, as he realised the lights were moving. No, _he_ was moving. Or rather his bed was being pushed down the corridor at pace.

“What’s going on?” He asked, he could hear the heart monitor now. Loud and alarming and not right. Not right at all. Was that him? Skipping and fast and jumping all over the place.

Garbed doctors and nurses lined the bed, he could only see their eyes and he didn’t recognise any of them but they looked dressed for surgery. Where were they taking him?

“Take it easy, Mac. Let us take care of you.”

“What’s wrong with me?” They’d said he was okay. They said he’d dodged a bullet. They said they’d _release_ him in the morning. Another stab of pain ran through his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he recognised the gowned person next to his bed, the only one not wearing a mask.

“ _Mom?”_

“You know I love you and I always will.” She smiled.

“Mom.” He whispered, unable take his eyes off of her, but she was left behind as he was pushed through a set of double doors into a theatre.

No.

“No!” Mac shouted and twisted on the bed. But he couldn’t see her any more.

“It’s okay, Mac.”

He couldn’t tell who was speaking. Blue hands pushed him back to the bed and he couldn’t resist them, especially when another sharp pain took his breath away. When it faded, he realised they’d stuck defib pads on him and restrained his wrists. This didn’t make sense, none of this made sense.

“MOM!” He shouted, stretching his neck back to where he thought the doors were.

“Relax, you’ll be okay, Mac.” The doctor said in a sing-song voice. “We’ll fix your broken heart. We just need to stop it first, so we can see the damage.”

“No, this is wrong. You’ll kill me!” Mac strained against the restraints as he heard the whine of a machine turned on. But the staff were indifferent to his struggles.

“No!”

“Charging.”

“NO!”

“Clear.”

Mac gasped, his hands were suddenly free but he was still struggling against something, no, some _one. Jack._

“Stop! Mac, you’re okay! You’re okay!”

Jack’s words suddenly penetrated the panic and he relaxed, limp and panting on the bed. He took some deep breaths, holding them and then releasing. His heart thundered in his chest but it was regular and strong. He closed his eyes and could hear Jack speaking quietly, reassuring a nurse that had come in concerned at the spike in his heart rate.

“That was a doozy, huh?” Jack said and Mac opened his eyes, Jack was perched on the edge of his bed, studying him. “Your monitor went crazy, took me a moment to wake you up, too.”

“Just a moment?” Mac asked, time felt so different in dreams.

“Yeah. Want to talk about it?”

Mac shook his head silently.

“What time is it?” He asked instead.

“Nearly oh six hundred.”

Mac nodded once. It was early, but it was still morning. He’d slept, he was feeling… terrible but his headache had diminished in its roar. He craned his neck up, his vitals looked acceptable. It was worth a try, he’d sweet talked a discharge with less that’s for sure. He looked up at Jack and--

“I’ll go see if I can find your doc.” Jack said quietly, recognising the look on his face and patting Mac’s leg as he left.

* * *

It had taken longer than Mac liked but he’d finally won his freedom. If Jack hadn’t been there, Mac would have simply left against his doctor’s wishes but he knew Jack wouldn’t let him get away with that. Instead, he forced himself to be compliant while he endured another examination and endless questions. It surprised him to learn that there’d been a few blips on his cardiac monitor overnight which Mac imagined had fuelled his nightmare, but his doctor eventually decided they were benign side-effects of the drugs and nothing to warrant keeping him in medical.

Jack had left to give him some privacy and returned just as Mac stepped out the adjoining bathroom and sat on the bed to pull his shoes on.

“Doc give you a clean bill of health?” Jack asked.

Mac debated giving Jack a selective truth, but figured he’d probably already interrogated the doctor himself and was just asking out of courtesy.

“Sorta. Got a follow up appointment in a few days for a barrage of unnecessary tests. They’re still worried about the affect on my heart.” Jack frowned so before he could suggest Mac stay for longer he added. “But I’m _fine_. I promise, they’re being cautious that’s all.”

Jack didn’t look convinced but he handed Mac his jacket so he figured he’d won this round at least.

“Do the others know?” Mac asked tentatively. He guessed not, as it was just Jack here.

“If by others, you mean did Bozer call Matty in a panic after getting your ‘if you’re reading this then I need your help’ message and finding my apartment empty? Then yeah. You might want to invite him to our steak dinner too. As for the others, no, we haven’t told them yet.”

Mac nodded, he didn’t think he could stand being smothered in attention right now. He felt brittle and drained. Even Jack was almost too much right now. What had seemed like the right thing to do yesterday, now seemed unbelievably foolish.

Jack watched Mac’s face closely, trying to gauge where his thoughts and emotions were. Mac had really given him a scare. Still did scare him actually. He used to know what was going through Mac’s head, maybe not the science but everything else had been easy for Jack to read, but now he wasn’t sure where the kid’s head was at all. This kind of recklessness was something new, and if this continued, next time they might not be so lucky. It needed to stop. Something Matty had clearly been on board with when she outlined to Jack the consequences Mac would be facing when he returned to work.

“I convinced Matty to hold off on the ass-chewing until you’ve got a few more cylinders firing.” He explained, and Jack saw the flash of relief before Mac’s face returned to neutral. “You’ve got a two day medical leave starting after the weekend, then if you’re feeling up to it, a psych eval before you’re cleared to come back pending Matty’s approval. Your access to the labs is going to be severely restricted for a while though.”

Mac nodded but offered no further opinions which only increased Jack’s worry. He’d thought the psyche eval would have got some kind of a reaction. At least the matter wasn’t going any further than the Phoenix. Jack knew Matty was planning on writing off what happened as a combination of grief and the first dose of DMT impairing Mac’s thinking. Thankfully, DARPA were too giddy over the data they now had from someone taking a second dose that they were willing to overlook the loss of one of their samples.

So that was Mac’s career saved and jail time avoided, all that was left to address now was the near lethal recklessness that led Mac to attempting this all by himself.

Jack hesitated. Phoenix medical was not the best place for that, but he knew a place that would be.

* * *

Mac fell asleep five minutes into the journey home, it was part exhaustion, part avoidance and mostly unintended. But when he woke up it wasn’t his driveway he saw but the vast, open, ocean. The windows of the car were partially down, letting in the fresh sea air and the rhythmic crashing sound of the waves. Mac realised he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out with his board to surf. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d come out to the ocean full stop.

He was alone inside the car, Jack was sat outside on the hood drinking a cup of coffee. A spare pair of Jack’s sunglasses were waiting for him on the dashboard and Mac gratefully slipped them on as he stepped out to join Jack. As he leant against the car, Jack offered him a bottle of water, which he took even as he eyed Jack’s coffee cup enviously.

“Don’t even think about it, pretty sure caffeine is on the no-no list from the doctor. Lets leave it at least an hour before we start ignoring it.”

Mac didn’t push it. Following doctors orders was the least he could do. He was starting to realise what a massive mistake he had made. He’d felt so certain it was the right thing to do, it was an acceptable risk, lying to his friends, stealing the drug, it was just saving time, avoid having to persuade them into letting him do it. It was his body, his mind, and that made it his choice, not theirs. Except… he’d seen the fear and relief and hurt on Jack’s face and _he’d_ been the one to put it there. His actions. And he knew he was going to see that reflected on each of his friend’s faces too when they found out as well.

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.” Jack replied, not sugar coating it.

“I’m sorry.” Mac said sincerely.

“I know you are,” Jack replied tiredly. “But as long you’re okay, that’s all that matters to me.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your leave too.” Mac offered.

Jack looked at him and for a moment Mac thought he was going to disagree with him, although he couldn’t see why, if Mac hadn’t been so stupid he could have spent the time relaxing and catching up with his friends rather than sat in an uncomfortable hospital chair, worrying over Mac.

But instead, Jack shook his head and huffed a breathy laugh.

“Why’d you do it, Mac?”

Mac had known this question would be coming. He’d rehearsed it in his head for days before this, trying to plan how to explain his reasoning in a way that wouldn’t get him locked up if it all went wrong. He’d practised it in his head for long enough that he almost believed it himself.

“File 47 was my mom’s idea. I thought, maybe, there might be something I could remember, maybe something that didn’t make sense at the time but now that I know what I do, it could help us. I know it was a long shot, DMT works best on short term memories, but I felt it was worth a try.” Mac shrugged. “I was willing to take the risk, and I didn’t want to waste time arguing about it. So I just did it.”

“Okay, so that’s what we tell Matty. She’ll buy that, on paper at least. But what was the real reason?” Jack asked, coffee finished and his full attention on Mac. “Because I’ve got to tell you, Mac, I’m worried about where your head’s at right now.”

Mac dropped his head, he should have known Jack would see right through that. He studied the water bottle in his hands, picking at the label, trying to think of way to describe it without making him seem...crazy.

“I don’t have any real memories of my mom.” He started, hesitantly. “Just feelings and ideas about her, vague memories that might be more like wishful thinking. I couldn’t picture her face in my mind any more.”

Jack stayed silent, waiting for Mac to continue.

“Until I took DMT the first time.”

Mac wasn’t looking at Jack, his attention focused on the ocean in front of them. But he could see Jack move in the corner of eye and imagined his face crumpling with realisation.

“Bud...”

Mac swallowed, he needed to get this out.

“I saw her, I talked to her and she said she loved me. But like all dreams, that started to fade and-- and it felt like losing her again.” And he’d already lost so much.

Jack’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Is that why you wouldn’t wake up, you were with her?” Jack asked hesitantly, as if afraid Mac had chosen to stay in the dream world rather than wake up.

“No, the irony is I didn’t even see her the second time.” Mac said bitterly, refusing to think about the nightmare that had followed.

“What did you see?”

“I was at your place. Except it wasn’t empty, everyone was there, Riley, Bozer, Matty, Desi, you. Even Charlie and Jill. I couldn’t see outside, all the windows were just black, and not like night time, like an abyss. And every time I tried to leave, to go looking for my mom, someone would stop me.”  
  
 _Come watch a movie, Mac.  
  
_

_I made some waffles, Mac.  
  
_

_You have to see this, Mac!  
  
_

It had been a tug of war, he’d wanted to leave, he’d _needed_ to find his mom, but he’d kept being pulled back. Torn between staying with his friends but desperate to find answers. Now, in hindsight, Mac felt sure that if he had escaped the apartment, he and Jack wouldn’t have been having this conversation. Cheryl had warned him not to go looking into his long term memories, he probably should have questioned her as to why not before he’d attempted this.  
  
“It was a complete failure. I didn’t see my mom, we’re no closer to stopping Codex. I’ve lost everyone’s trust in me.”

“Its not a complete failure, Mac. You’re here, you’re alive, everything else we can work on together. And I know you’re hurting, but if you let us in, talk to us, we can help with that too.”

Mac looked at Jack. He wanted it to be that easy, but things were so complicated and messed up and no one knew the right answer to deal with Codex, but above it all, he hadn’t missed his mom like this since he was five years old and barely understanding what his dad had meant when he’d told him his mom wasn’t coming home from the hospital this time. He felt like he’d lost both his parents this year.

Jack stayed silent, but his arm slid around Mac’s shoulders, pulling him in close. Mac looked away, pressing his lips together to stop them trembling as he stayed stiff and refused to relax. They watched the waves together, the warmth from Jack’s arm slowly spreading across his back and eventually the tension started bleeding from his body. He couldn’t keep his walls up. His breath hitched and caught in his throat and as tears tracked down his cheeks he turned into Jack and let his grief go.

* * *

_Epilogue_

Two weeks later, Matty asked Mac to stay behind after a debriefing and handed him an envelope.

“You have a lot of friends, Mac. Don’t ever forget that.” Was all she said before she tapped the window for privacy and left him alone.

He shook the contents of the envelope out onto the table. Photo after photo after photo of his mom spilled out across the glass. Smiling with a wine glass in her hand, arms thrown around grinning strangers, in a lab, and a few he recognised from Mission City. He’d never seen any of them before.

There was a handwritten note too. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes to clear his suddenly blurry vision.

_Took us a while but what’s the point of having top level security clearance if you can’t do things like track down your mom’s friends, both civilian and DXS._

_From,_

_Your Phoenix Family_

_P.S. Call me when you get this – Jack_

Mac smiled, and as more tears fell he took his phone out of his pocket and dialled.

**Author's Note:**

> The medical accuracy in this is unashamedly dubious, needles to the heart is outdated according to wiki but as they were going to do it in the show, I decided to go with it for dramatic effect.


End file.
